A flirty message, a winky face attached.
It doesn't mean anything, I tell myself.
He loves you, I say. You are his world.
But I never quite believe it,
Though I know I have no cause.
Once a cheater always a cheater.
Isn't that the phrase?
I don't want it to but it sticks.
I hate myself for it.

A kiss or two here, a request for photos there.
It wouldn't be much to an outside eye.
But to me? It is everything
My ever fragile insecurities shattered.
My heart holding on, but barely.
Did I have cause after all?
Did he mean anything he told me?
That phrase again, always ringing in my ears.
Will I ever escape it?